Room Service
by WHEREIZMABAG
Summary: With the Braidson Hotel filled to the brim, Naomi Campbell needs to concentrate on her work. But with a certain red headed twin calling for room service, how can she resist?


With the staggering amount of reservations quickly flooding in, Bristol's Braidson Hotel was more than 'a little' overwhelmed. Bristol was hosting one of Britain's most renowned fashion shows of the year. Attending the event were names like: Hutcherson, Whitings, and most notable of all, Katie and Emily Fitch. With one of the biggest brands in the fashion industry, 'Fitched' had become much more than a trademark. Something that a certain Naomi Campbell, in short, didn't give a fuck about.

But unfortunately, as Naomi Campbell's pay check was concerned, this blonde haired, Braidson Hotel employee certainly needed to care more about it. Well, according to her boss anyway, "Right, listen up!" Mr Polkes announced, "In one month, this hotel will be filled to the brim. And I very well hope you all know what that means."

Naomi knew very well what it meant. With Braidson Hotel being the highest quality hotel within walking distance to the fashion event, there was absolutely no surprise that next month the hotel was going to be 'filled to the brim' with guests. Therefore, this meant that most of the staff would be expected to work overtime. And more importantly, there was the possible chance of a few promotions, or maybe even a couple of pay rises to the extra hard working. And nothing rang louder bells in Naomi's ears then a big fat pay check.

You see, the 22 year old had been planning to travel the world. Y'know, to Australia, Japan, Cyprus even. With years worth of savings gradually growing, she was now only slightly off from reaching her long awaited goal. All she needed was that extra pay check until she could pack up and say Bon Voyage to Bristol.

"Yes people! Double shifts. No excuses," he said as some of the staff groaned,"And just a little warning, try not to be late, or I might just have to fire you." Mr Polkes said as he eyed a blatantly yawning, brown haired boy at the front.

Naomi rolled her eyes. As if the fat bastard was going to fire anybody in this time of need for double shifts, she thought. Mr Polkes was the manager of the Braidson Hotel. With an enormous belly, a balding head of hair and an obsessive need for perfection, he wasn't Naomi's favourite person in the whole wide world.

Once the meeting was over, Polkes ordered them to get back to their current jobs. Unfortunately for Naomi, hers was carrying the endless amount of luggage up to the guest rooms. Sighing as she made her way out of the meeting room a voice called out, "Oi! Naomi!"

Without slowing down in the slightest, possibly even doubling her pace, Naomi quickly glanced behind her only to see the brown haired boy from earlier, "What do you want Cook?"

"What's the rush Naomi? If a quickie is what you wa-"

Cook was abruptly cut off, "Look, Cook. I quite honestly don't have time for your shit at the moment. Because if I play my cards right, I'll only have three more months left of all this hotel crap. So try not to take offence if I pass, once again by the way, on your fabulous offer."

Cook, absolutely taking no offence whatsoever replied,"So not even a mind blowing shag from the Cookie Monster himself is going to sway your mind?"

Outsiders may have found this talk offensive, but to James Cook and Naomi Campbell, this was nothing more then a daily exchange. Both of them had been working at the grand Braidson Hotel for over three years now. Over time, the two of them saw something in each other that nobody else saw, or bothered to notice. Whether it be the humour, the mutual understanding or just the shared comfort. Each of them had become more companion then colleague to the other.

"Sadly, no." Naomi said as they walked into the main entrance room of the hotel.

"Shame. You're missing out, yeah? Just as well the Fitch twins are coming; this place could do with a little more _action_. " Cook said with a smirk.

Naomi, who hadn't been listening, or caring for the matter, narrowly dodged two running boys, "Selfish twats...What did you say?"

"The Fitch twins."

Naomi scrunched up her face, "Who the fuck are they?"

Cook looked at the blonde in disbelief, "You're kidding me Naomi!" She stared back blankly, "Y'know...'Get Enriched, Get _Fitched_? "

Now Naomi was never one for bullshit. And when phrases like 'Get Enriched, Get Fitched' came along, she couldn't help but laugh, " Cook, I have absolutely no idea what you are talking about."

"Christ, blondie! Talk about living under a rock. They're only the richest, most shaggable twins around." he said as he waggled his eyebrows.

"And possibly the most conceited?" Naomi replied, obviously unimpressed.

"Who cares? They're _twins_, Naomi, twins."

Naomi, who wasn't exactly getting the most beneficial information out of this conversation, spied an open lift," Love to stay and chat Cook, but I'd rather here your undeniably interesting shagging habits later. Much later."

And with that, Cook watched as the blonde, with lightning speed (provided by those impossibly long legs), slid between the lift's rapidly closing doors. _Mental_, he thought with a grin, _fucking mental_.

Naomi had now delivered a majority of the luggage to the guests' rooms, but when she saw one guest's luggage in particular, she just knew that she was going to struggle. _Jesus, who the fuck packs this much_, Naomi thought. The prick had packed over nine leopard print suitcases, and with one pair of arms and only one luggage trolley left in the foyer, this was not looking good.

She heaved three of the heaviest suitcases that she had ever come across in her life onto the luggage trolley. She was already struggling and she still had six more suitcases to go. With each of them weighing heavier then the next, she needed help desperately. Luckily enough, she spotted some fellow co-workers walking past, " Oi! Some help please?"

Grudgingly, they helped haul all six suitcases strategically onto the trolley before leaving for their 'break'. Naomi knew exactly what sort of 'break' they were having; a spliff break. Unfortunately for Naomi, pay rises and promotions still rang clearly in her head. No slacking off for her, instead leaving her to direct herself, and the extremely overloaded trolley, to the owner of the luggage.

This proved to be a more difficult task as to what Naomi originally expected, "For fucks sake!" Naomi cried out as she hit yet another wall. Naomi had now hit into eleven guests (accidents of course), bumped into seven walls and had gotten stuck on thirteen corners. _It isn't my fault that I'm stuck pushing a tonne of fucking bricks up to room 320 with my vision completely obscured by what must be an illegal amount of leopard print,_ she thought.

After several more incidents, which were quickly followed by a string of swearing that would make any sailor proud, Naomi finally reached room 320. Finally. She quickly fixed her peroxide blonde hair and navy blue bellhop cap before knocking on the door.

"Come in," came a muffled voice behind the door.

Naomi pulled one of the (still heavy) suitcases off the trolley with much difficultly and twisted the doorknob. _The wanker better give me a tip once I'm done_, she thought bitterly as she tugged the suitcase into the room.

"Finally Ka- Shit! What are you doing here?"

Naomi spun around in shock, dropping the suitcase onto her foot. Sudden pain sprang up along her right leg, "Fuck me! Jesus Christ! Hol-" Halfway through mid-swear, Naomi squinted open her eyes to see a girl that looked around the same age as herself. She had pretty features: big brown eyes, a cute button nose, amazing looking lips and vibrant red hair. Suddenly she remembered where she was, and that there was such a thing called Customer Complaint; for inappropriate timing, blatant swearing and resembling a pervert. "Luggage," Naomi said between grimaces caused by the pain in her right leg, "I was asked to take up your luggage."

The girl blinked before sudden realisation hit, "Oh! Luggage. Right..uh..over there please." She pointed over to a space near the window. Fully aware of the pain in her right leg, Naomi limped back to the leopard print suitcase and started to tug. With a wounded leg, and arms straining to pull a suitcase that hadn't got any lighter, the blonde seemed to be seriously struggling, "Uh, do you need any help?" the girl, who was watching the scene quickly unfold, asked tentatively.

"No thank you, miss. I'm absolutely fine," Naomi puffed as she continued to pull the suitcase without much success, "Absolutely fi-" With one huge jerk, Naomi collapsed under the weight of the suitcase, hitting her head on the edge of the room's coffee table as she fell to the floor. "Bloody hell." she groaned. This was just not her day.

"Shit, are you alright?"

With her legs trapped under the suitcase and her head feeling like it was about to fucking explode, "Do I look alright?" she wanted to ask. Battered and bruised, there was no way in hell she was carrying the next eight suitcases in.

"Here," The redhead offered her a hand, which she gladly accepted, and helped pull Naomi up off the ground. Naomi whimpered as the pain returned to her leg, "Come sit down," the red head said softly as she helped guide Naomi over to a leather sofa. "I'll go get some ice," she said, leaving Naomi to watch her walk away and possibly even appreciate some of the girl's finer features.

As Naomi waited for the girl to come back, she studied the room. With a room that could please the Royal Family, it was definitely one of the more expensive suites on offer at the Braidson Hotel, that was for sure. Plush, leather sofas taking up every possible space, large black plasma screens decorating the walls, the biggest bloody bed known to man kind. _Yep, definitely a guest who has money,_ Naomi thought to herself. Soon enough, there were the sounds of cupboard door's opening and closing until the girl reappeared, "All I could find was two bottles of wine, sorry." she said as she sat herself down next to Naomi.

"Well then, by all means, hand them over." Naomi replied cheekily.

The girl giggled, "I hardly think a hangover is going to help that bruised head of yours."

Naomi sighed, "You're probably right." While time passed, the blonde noticed the girl looking at her. With the girl's lips slightly parted as she stole wondering stares, Naomi immediately felt insecure under her gaze. As if she could physically feel the girl's eyes examining her body. She crossed and uncrossed her arms before promptly clearing her throat to break the silence, "So...What made you come to Bristol?"

Naomi relaxed as the girl's gaze broke focus, "My sister and I are attending a fashion show. I chose to arrive early, help arrange designs and such."

"Cool..." Naomi replied, nodding her head slowly. Jesus, already people were arriving for this bloody fashion show. How eager can these people get? _Polkes wasn't joking when he said this hotel was going to be seriously busy,_ she thought. "Sounds fun. Hope you...get..your designs...good?" Well what else was she supposed to say; she didn't know shit about fashion.

The girl laughed to herself. Naomi couldn't help but like the girl's laugh. It was soft, therapeutic even. Suddenly, the girl stuck out her hand before saying, "My name's Emily by the way, Emily Fitch."

Fitch. As in the Fitch Twins that Cook was talking about? Richest, most shaggable twins twins in Britain? No wonder Cook was drooling over them before they even got here; they were hot. _Well at least Emily was_, Naomi thought as she cautiously shook the red head's hand, "Naomi Campbell."

As the two girls talked, Naomi ended up forgetting about the pain in her right leg or the growing bruise on her head. In fact, she soon forgot that time was even passing at all. There was just something about this red headed girl. Something just connected. Because lets be honest, Naomi wasn't the best at making friends. Only a select few had bothered enough to put up with Naomi's sarcastic remarks and securely built walls. But talking to Emily Fitch was something she found extremely natural. There was a familiarity there, as if Emily was a life long friend. Naomi couldn't help but open up a little with Emily. Be a little less like everyone else saw her to be.

"Well, Katies a bit of a bicycle. She lets anyone ride her."

Naomi let out a snort of laughter. For the last hour or so (she had lost count), Naomi had failed to control her laughter. Earlier on, they ('they' being Naomi) had thrown caution to the wind and cracked open one of the bottles of wine, quickly onto the second. Past trying to keep a straight face, Naomi felt her grin getting larger and larger with each minute passing. Emily, she had found out, was exceptionally witty.

"She sounds absolutely charming," she replied once she had caught her breath. Naomi noticed how close the two of them had now become on the sofa; legs touching, arms slowly closing down the distance. Aware of every hair touching, every graze and tingling of the skin as an arm brushed past painfully slowly. Maybe it was the alcohol that was responsible for the craving, the urge for intimacy. Definitely responsible for a racing pulse, the hammering of her heart against her chest, Naomi thought.

The blonde let her eyes rake shamelessly over Emily. First, lingering on the rise and fall of her chest, then to the collarbone peaking just above her neckline. Next were her eyes, a deep mahogany colour lit with an inner glow. Then, ever so slowly, Naomi lowered her gaze.

Emily licked her lips. Naomi swallowed hard.

Suddenly there was loud knock on the door, "Miss Fitch?" Naomi, still slightly caught on the image of Emily licking her lips, jumped in her seat. Finally registering the deep voice, her eye's widened.

Emily, oblivious to Naomi's current situation, smiled shyly, "Be right back," she stood up and made her way to the door.

Naomi watched as the redhead left the room before standing up, "Whoa..." she said as a sudden rush of wooziness hit her. She really shouldn't of opened those bottles. Once Naomi had regained most of her senses, she quietly (as quietly as a drunk could) walked across the room and leant against the wall to listen in to the conversation.

"I apologise for your luggage being so carelessly dumped," Naomi put her head in her hands, she had totally forgotten about the rest of Emily's luggage, "I'll send up someone to attend to your luggage immediately."

"Thanks, that would be great," she heard Emily reply.

She heard footsteps, "Now what I originally came up for was to welcome you to the Braidson Hotel!" Naomi peaked her head around the corner, her heart stopping as she saw Mr Polkes entering the suite.

God, how could she have been so reckless? Here she was, hiding from her not-so-forgiving boss after drinking a guest's supply of wine. If she were to get caught, he would surely fire her. Mr Polkes had been looking for an excuse to fire Naomi, and Cook, since an incident involving whipped cream and a Brazilian model. Naomi needed this job. She couldn't loose it now, especially since she was so very close to her dream of travelling the world. And well, she couldn't be fucked to find another job.

Naomi drew in a breath, it was now or never. Checking that no one was looking, she tiptoed across the hallway into one of the bathrooms. She waited with baited breath until she heard Mr Polkes and Emily pass the bathroom and into the main room where she had just been. She quietly pulled the bathroom door open before warily walking back into the hallway. Naomi glimpsed back to the main room, only to see Emily trailing after Mr Polkes, her eyes hopelessly searching in all directions to see where the blonde had disappeared to.

Naomi dipped her head to her chest, trying to ignore the slight twinge of guilt. _Fuck it, she's just some girl that I had just happened to have come across,_ she thought. With that, she pressed down the door handle and dashed outside of the suite.


End file.
